


Get By With a Little Help

by Redrikki



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Robin: Son of Batman (Comics)
Genre: Child Neglect, Daddy Issues, Friendship is Magic, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 06:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7746439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrikki/pseuds/Redrikki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’re nobody, Maya’s dad used to say, but not, like, in an abusive sort of way.  It was more…aspirational. Be nobody. Be invisible. Strike unseen from the shadows. It was only after months of hanging out with Damian Wayne that Maya realized just how abusive that actually was.</p><p>After the end of <i>Robin: Son of Batman</i>, three damaged kids and their giant bat-thing start to heal with the magic of friendship and really good food.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get By With a Little Help

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [hurt/comfort bingo](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com) challenge 'learning to be loved."

_You’re nobody_ , Maya’s dad used to say, but not, like, in an abusive sort of way. It was more…aspirational. Be nobody. Be invisible. Strike unseen from the shadows. It was only after months of hanging out with Damian Wayne that Maya realized just how abusive that actually was.

“Do you think he ever loved me?” Suren asked abruptly as they were enjoying a we-saved-the-world victory ice cream. “My father, I mean?”

Maya squirmed uncomfortably where she leaned up against Goliath’s bulk. The pain and exhaustion of the last couple of days was catching up now that the adrenalin was wearing off, but she’d been enjoying her double fudge chocolate ice cream. Why did Suren have to kill the mood like that? What could she possibly say that wouldn’t hurt him when the obvious answer was ‘no’?

Of course, Damian Tact-is-for-peasants Wayne didn’t have that problem. “No,” he said matter-of-factly and went back to licking his ice cream cone like he ate broken hearts for breakfast.

And it definitely broke Suren’s heart. Maya could feel it by, like, osmosis or something. His shoulders slumped as he curled in on himself. For a highly trained warrior and sorcerer, he looked an awful lot like a kicked puppy. 

“What is _wrong_ with you?” Maya yelled, rounding on Damian. The insensitive little jerk didn’t even have the decency not to duck her attempted dope slap. At least he didn’t try to hit her back.

“We were raised as a means to our parents’ ends,” Damian continued cooly. “They never loved us because they were incapable, not because we were unworthy.”

For a moment, Maya saw red. How dare he?! Her dad _had_ loved her. He may not have said it or even really showed it, but Maya had to believe he had. He wasn’t Talia al Ghul or Den Darga: he never used her. He’d barely even paid attention to her until she’d proved she was ready, willing, and able to help him in his work. Maybe that’s what Damian meant. Dad had raised her to want to be used.

“My dad used to say that nothing was more important than the mission. Nothing,” Maya said slowly as she tried to work through her feelings, “especially not me.” She swallowed hard and rubbed at her eyes. She wished her dad was here now so she could confront him with every time he dumped her in some crummy safe house, every time he’d refused to teach her and then called her a failure when she tried. She’d forgiven Damian for killing her father, but, for a second, Maya hated him all over again for denying her that. 

Damian looked her over then turned away. “Ttt,” he said dismissively. “Morgan Ducard was an idiot.” 

Damian would be the first to say he didn’t do comforting, but he totally did. It just wasn’t in a way that any sane person would recognize. Luckily, Maya was more than a bit damaged herself. That was why she just smiled any gave her friend a playful nudge. “Yeah,” she laughed, “our parents are assholes.”

****

Despite their repeated and insistent demands, they didn’t rendezvous with either of Damian’s parents after their little ice cream break. None of them were in the mood to deal with grown-ups and their drama. Instead, they hopped back on their giant bat-thing and slowly drifted west across Europe. They ended up crashing in one of her dad’s old safe houses just outside Berlin in the wee hours of the morning. Beyond exhausted, they collapsed onto the bare mattress on the floor of Maya’s old room and slept for twelve hours straight.

Maya woke up sandwiched between the boys with a full bladder and late afternoon sun shining in her face. They groaned and grumbled as she squirmed her way free to head to the bathroom. By the time she got back, they were stretching their way to wakefulness

Damian, bratty snob that he was, ran his finger across the dusty windowsill and tutted at the results. “This,” he said with a sneer, “is a dump.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. Even before being abandoned for two plus years, it hadn’t exactly been the Ritz. Maya’s dad had made some good money killing people, but he always reinvested it in the job instead of spending it on frivolous stuff like bed frames or whatever. Other than the mattresses, the only other furniture in the place was a battered kitchen set and ancient TV. She’d taught herself German watching that TV, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a piece crap. 

“Is there a privy at least?” Suren asked, shifting slightly from foot to foot and tugging on his pants.

“Yeah, at the end of the hall,” Maya told him. She smiled fondly as he bolted down the hall, but turned quickly away when he started to pee without bothering to close the door. 

After a minute, the sound of pee hitting water dried up and was replaced by a stream of low, incompressible muttering. “How am I supposed to empty this confounded chamber pot?” Suren finally yelled. 

Maya and Damian exchanged a look. His whole face twitched with suppressed amusement and it was all she could do to keep from laughing. “Ttt,” Damian said once he’d gotten his face under control. “I will show him.” He walked briskly down the hall to the bathroom and shut the door behind him. 

Thank god, Maya thought, and turned to the closet. Her armor was designed to be comfortable, but after two days of continuos wear, she was sick of it. Unfortunately, the pickings were pretty slim. They’d always traveled light, but they rarely left stuff behind. All the closet had was a pair of jeans she’d out-grown two years ago and an ugly, shapeless brown dress. “Ugh,” Maya groaned, and pulled it on just as she heard the bathroom door open.

“I’m hungry,” Damian announced. He had taken off his mask and both boys had clearly made an effort to clean up. “What is there to eat?”

“Nothing, unless you like expired canned beans.” The boys’ near identical expressions of the disgust were so over-the-top, Maya just had to laugh. “Give me a second, and we’ll go get something to eat.” Last time she stayed here, there had been an awesome café around the corner she’d liked to visit when she got sick of being alone. Hopefully it was still there. There was just one thing she had to do first.

Maya stood in front of her dad’s bedroom door and willed herself to enter. It was surprisingly hard, but, after half a minute of deep breaking, she managed it. The room looked just as she remembered it, only covered in a thin layer of dust. There was the high-end computer. There were the crates of emergency equipment and replacement parts. Damian headed straight for them and started to paw through, but Maya ignored it all and made for the closet safe. 

Inside were several bundles of Euros and a bunch of fake passports. Maya tossed each of the boys a stack of money and shoved the rest down her bra. Someday she would have to do something about all this junk, not just here, but in all the other safe houses too. Today was not that day. “Come on boys,” she said. “Breakfast is on Dad.” 

****

God, she loved crepes, especially ones filled with strawberries and smothered in chocolate like this one. Maya savored every bite of it as she watched the crowds drift past the café. To think, Den Dagra would have destroyed all of it if they hadn’t stopped him. She let her next bite sit in her mouth so she could really absorb the flavor. Funny how nearly losing everything really made you appreciate what you had.

Suren didn’t seem to feel the same way. He bolted down his crepe like he was being timed on it then sat, tapping his fingers impatiently, as Maya and Damian took the time to actually enjoy their meals. “Now what?” he demanded.

“Well,” Maya said slowly as she dragged her next piece through a puddle of chocolate syrup, “I’m going to finish my breakfast, and then I figured we could go buy some street clothes.” Her dress really was hideous and the boys’ clothes weren’t much better. Suren looked like a Ren Faire reject while Damian’s Robin outfit was drawing stares. And they both smelled, like, really, really bad.

“No.” Suren banged his hand on the table. “I—” he frowned, clearly struggling to find the right words “—I have always had a purpose. Now I have none. What do I do?”

Maya could definitely understand that. After her dad died, all she’d wanted was to get revenge and live up to his legacy, but it turned out vengeance was stupid and dad’s legacy was crap. If she hadn’t had Damian to show her a better way, she wasn’t sure what she would have done.

Damian set his silverware down and gave the other boy an assessing look. “I have found helping others to be an excellent use of my superior training and skills,” he said after a long moment before resuming his breakfast.

“So, I should become a hero?” Suren asked with small frown. Maya wasn’t sure if he disapproved of the idea or was just having trouble getting his head around it. “Are we to be a team now?”

It wasn’t a bad idea. Individually, they were all pretty badass. Combine Maya’s sonics, Suren’s magics, and Damian’s Damian-ness and they’d be unstoppable. Except Suren had been used all his life and hero-ing wasn’t for everybody. The last thing Maya wanted was to be like their parents. “If you want,” she told him, “but you don’t have to. If you want to go hang out on a beach instead, we’ll still like you.” Maya felt like she was passing down some precious heirloom. Damian had given this advice to her, Dick Grayson had given it to him, and maybe someday Suren would give it to some other kid. “It’s your life: do what you want.”

“Except kill people or destroy the world,” Damian chimed in.

Maya rolled her eyes. “Yeah, except that. Look, there’s no rush. We saved the world, I say we take a break, have some fun. We’ve earned it.” 

Suren frowned at her in obvious confusion. “What is—-“

“If you say fun,” Maya interrupted, “I swear to God I will punch you.” The boy squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. Maya braced herself for a throw down.

“I want to visit the Louver,” Damian announced, smashing through the tension like a wrecking ball.

“What?” Maya and Suren both asked blankly.

Damian bit his last piece off the fork and calmly chewed and swallowed before answering. “The art museum in Paris,” he explained. “Mother took me once on a mission, but I never got a chance to look around.” It wasn’t Maya’s idea of a rocking good time, but she could see how a nerd like Damian could think it was. And Paris was one of her favorite cities, after all. 

Suren nodded sharply. “Then I wish to visit the Oracle at Delphi.” They both turned to look at her. “What about you?”

For a moment, Maya’s mind went blank. She’d liked her beach house, when she wasn’t bored of her mind, but she wasn’t in any rush to get back. At some point, she wanted to find out if her mom was still alive and if she wanted her, but that wasn’t exactly a fun group activity. She wanted to do something normal for once in her life. “I want to go to Disney World.” 

Damian frowned and Maya braced herself for some crack about her plebeian tastes. “Hmm,” he said, considering. “We would have to return to America for that. Would Euro Disney suffice?” he asked with all seriousness. “What about Tivoli Gardens? Or Legoland,” he continued with obvious and growing enthusiasm.

Tivoli Gardens. Maya couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of that. She’d gone there once with her parents, back before her mom had disappeared and her dad had gotten so cold. She couldn’t really picture it now, but she remembered it being bright and loud and fun. Their visit was one of the few really happy memories she had of her old family and she wanted to share it with her new family too. “Tell you want,” she said, slinging her arms across the boys’ shoulders, “We’ve got a giant bat and a whole lot of money. Let’s do it all.” 

So they did.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "With a Little Help From My Friends" by The Beatles.


End file.
